The Cleveland Blues
by Rachael torie b
Summary: I OWN NOTHING RELATED TO/OF DIVERGENT OR ANY OTHER REAL EVENTS OR OBJECTS FOUND WITHIN! Divergent AU A disgruntled Tris must go to live with "Aunt" Jeanine and her two adoptive sons until her parents return from a humanitarian trip to India. Little does Tris know, things will get more complicated than anticipated. (Tris/Eric) (Tris/Tobias/Four) Reviews decide if I continue.
1. Chapter 1

Tris's parents were humanitarians, traveling the globe doing good things for people who couldn't afford to do those things for themselves. Tris knew this, knew she should be admiring them for it, and knew she should even be aspiring to be like them, but all she felt at the moment was resentful. With Caleb off at Harvard and her parents off in India, she was utterly and completely alone, meaning only one thing: she had to live with Aunt Jeanine until the foreseeable future.

The brilliant and renowned scientist wasn't really Tris's aunt, but she had went to college with her father, where they became quick rivals and close friends. Honestly, Tris didn't even really know Jeanine. She'd only met her twice, once at a college reunion with her father when she was eleven, and once two years before at a convention discussing scientific breakthroughs used to help developing countries. What Tris did know was that the woman was kind of a creep, even if she'd never tell her dad that. Other than that trivial observation, Tris knew the woman had two adoptive sons, but she knew not their ages or names.

With exasperated annoyance, Tris rested her forehead to the cool bus window, internally wondering why she even had to take the bus when Jeanine could have just as easily sent a car with some kind of paid driver. The woman was rich after all. With a halt, the unceremonious lurch of the public vehicle caused Tris's head to leave the window's surface and reconnect with it, rather painfully, might she add. With gritted teeth, the disgruntled teenager reached for her suitcase, an old beaten thing with wheels only still with her out of sentimental purposes. She and that suitcase had seen some serious mileage together.

Swiftly, Tris, with luggage in hand, exited the bus. She was left standing in a cloud of dust as it sped away, clearing her throat while gawking at the large house before her. She and her family definitely weren't hurting for money, far from it actually, but this colossal structure was something else entirely. If she'd learned anything from social studies, Tris could easily see the home was meant to be Gothic Victorian, its large dark frame looming over the expanding yard and driveway enough to cast quite the sizeable shadow. The large green yard was bordered by a tall black iron fence on all sides, an enormous, elaborate gate standing proudly in the center. Tall and twisted oak trees stood guard on all sides of the house, branches ready to impale any unwanted guests. By God, this place even had a freaking tower with a black pointy thing on it.

Tris gulped. "Ok. We got this." She said to herself, beginning the slow trek to the scary gate. Once there, she didn't know if it was locked or what, but to her relief it came right open with a light push. Dragging her suitcase up a short trail never felt more ominous.

By the time she reached the hulking black double doors, Tris was ready to bolt, run all the way back to the airport and then fly all the way back to Chicago. But no, she had to face her fears. How bad could these people be, anyway. At any rate, she'd probably be the strange one, no matter the fact their house looked like it belonged to Dracula. Steeling herself, she grasped the knocker in her hand, bringing it down three times before she waited. For like, three minutes. Looking around, she wondered if anyone was even home. She didn't see any signs of someone being there, no people, animals, or cars.

Drawing her lips into a tight line of annoyance, Tris reached for the knocker once again, pondering if a doorbell was too much to ask for. But just as she was about to grab the odd looking thing, the door slid inward, her hand dangerously close to hitting someone in the face. She draw it back quickly after letting it linger there under the scrutinizing stare of some dark, tall, and grumpy stranger. Clearing her throat, Tris waited for him to say something welcoming, or something at all. But he said absolutely nothing, just looking at her expectantly and rather blankly.

Feeling what little confidence and comfort she had about this place slowly rinse down the drain, Tris said, "Uh… I'm," But for some reason she stuttered. Inwardly, she cringed.

The boy gave her an odd look, like he thought she was the most idiotic thing he'd ever seen. "Is it a hard one?"

"Uh, no. I'm Tris." God, she wanted to die on the spot. The (rude) stranger said nothing in response, only opening the door wider and stepping away so she could come inside. At least she knew they were expecting her.

The indoors of the house looked much like the outside: large, dark, intimidating. Kind of like a certain someone standing behind her at the moment.

"So… is this where you live?" Tris said, turning to look at him, but then realized too late how retarded of a question that was, turning a bit pink in embarrassment. The boy looked like he thought the same thing, giving her another one of those looks.

Finally, he replied, "Yeah." He'd said it slowly, like he thought she was so stupid she wouldn't understand it otherwise.

Since this person obviously didn't want to be around her and she shared his sentiment, Tris wanted to escape his presence as quickly as possible now. "Is Jeanine here?"

The boy walked farther into the room, heading toward a large and domineering staircase, gaudy in its gothic embellishments. "Yes," He said, "But she's working in her lab now. She'll see you later."

Tris slowly nodded in response, even though his back was turned now, feeling very uncomfortable. She was still idly standing there when he spoke again, an even harder sound to his voice than before.

"Are you coming, or not?" He sounded pretty vexed, and this pissed Tris off. It wasn't her idea to come stay with these weird people she barely knew, and she was not happy about it either. If anything, this was more of an inconvenience to her.

Glaring at him, she followed him up the stairs. From there, they walked down a dingily lit hallway in stony, uncomfortable silence until he abruptly stopped at a dark wooden door.

"This is your room." He said simply, turning on his heel and walking away without saying anything else.

Annoyed and offended, Tris muttered, "Weirdo." Shoving into the room, she added, "Pissy weirdo."

The room was nice, if not overdone. A large, dark four-poster bed stood in the middle, burgundy and plum colored silken pillows swamping it. Directly across from the bed, a window seat situated into the wall at an octagon shape drew in the sunlight, particles floating through it. To the far right, two doors were placed in the wall, and upon further investigation Tris pleasantly discovered it was a spacious walk-in-closet. Another door on the opposite wall led to a bathroom, steps at an upward incline leading to a dark marble walk-in-tub shaped like a giant oval. Tris could get used to this, if the people who lived here weren't eccentric jerks of course.

She made short work of putting her things away, and gazed distastefully at all the open space the closet had left to offer. Next, she plugged in her iPhone charger, and then plugged that into her phone because it was getting dangerously close to 1%. Even if she wasn't nearly as attached to her phone as most sixteen year olds, Tris still wanted to be able to receive calls from Caleb and her parents and, most importantly, her best friend Christina, who was probably already ready to cry at the loss of her. A knock on her bedroom door startled her, casting an unsure look at it. If it was the boy who'd answered the front door earlier, she didn't want to get it. But instead she found herself relieved when it was a woman's voice who called.

"Tris? Are you in there?" Tris put down her phone, going to the door.

Throwing it open revealed a middle-aged woman with shiny blonde hair, dressed in an immaculate blue business suit. Jeanine smiled at her warmly. "I'm sorry we couldn't pick you up at the airport; I was working."

"It's ok." Tris said, shrugging. Jeanine smiled again, and for some reason, it made Tris weary.

"Well then," The older female said, clasping her hands together in front of her, "Dinner is ready downstairs, if you'll join us."

By us, Tris figured Jeanine meant that extremely rude boy would be there, and she contemplated flat out saying no, but one look at the scientist's face told her the invitation hadn't been a request anyway.

"Sure." Tris wondered if her smile appeared as fake as it genuinely was.

"Excellent." Jeanine quipped, smiling wider.

The dining room was much too large for just the three of them—Tris, Jeanine, and her adoptive son. But apparently it's where they always ate. Truthfully, Tris would've been happier and more comfortable eating in her room alone. But, once again, that's not how things work in the Mathews household.

"Tris, I assume you've met Tobias?" Jeanine prompted.

"I have." She replied stiffly, looking down at her over-piled plate.

Just then, someone else burst into the room threw the doors, pushing them both in and swinging them wildly. Everyone turned to see who this disturber was.

"I'm terribly sorry to be late for diner mother, but traffic was an absolute bitch today." Boomed the voice of another boy, who Tris guessed was Jeanine's other son, who she had forgotten about until now. Something about his completely indifferent and slightly smiling face told her he was not sorry at all, and perhaps this little upstage had been rather intentional. His eyes fell on Tris, dark brows furrowing slightly.

"Who's this?" He demanded to no-one in particular, but at the same time to everyone in the room.

Jeanine smiled sternly, looking ever-so-slightly displeased. "Eric," She said, stressing his name, "This is Tris. You remember, the girl who's going to be staying with us for a while, until her parents come back from India."

Eric plopped down in the chair directly across from Tris's, his expression turning to one of coy interest.

"Oh," He drawled, "That Tris." His gaze was on her the whole time since he'd first seen her, and it was a tad unnerving.

"Yes, that Tris." Said Jeanine, sounding exasperated, but then she fixed her expression back to its original chipper-ness. "Tris was just telling us about her school, weren't you Tris?"

The girl in question looked up, surprised and caught off guard. "Um no, but I can, I guess." She said, getting off to an awkward start, earning an expectant look from Jeanine.

"Well, I go to William McKinley High School in Chicago. It's nothing special really, just a big government building." Tris said, adding as an afterthought, "Kinda looks like a prison."

Jeanine made a face, but Eric seemed to think what she said, or something about her, was amusing.

"Does it?" Eric said, eyes twinkling mischievously as he tilted his head slightly.

"Um, yeah." Tris said uncomfortably.

Tobias made a huffing sound. "You know all about what a prison building looks like don't you, Eric." His voice was detached and sarcastic, but Eric sent him what can only be described as a bitchy smile in return.

"Yes, and all of us here can be glad that you don't know what one looks like. If you'd ever been in prison, you'd have gotten raped."

As soon as those words fell from his mouth, Jeanine threw her silverware to the table harshly. "Enough! Both of you." She said, her words a threat and a warning. It was like she turned into a whole different person.

Tris tried to sink lower in her chair, as to not harness Jeanine's wrath in her direction. In response to Jeanine's words, Tobias looked like a kicked puppy, but Eric seemed quite happy with himself.

"Anyway," Said Eric pointedly, fixing his blue gaze back onto Tris, "I just came for the chocolate cake," He said, standing and taking a plate of cake with him. He rounded table and walked toward the doors, but stopped just behind Tris's chair. "You should try it sometime."

His smile was wry and his eyes were turbulent, and Tris had completely no idea what he was talking about. "What?" She asked confusedly.

Eric's grin broadened, and it could now be classified as a grade-A smirk. "Why, the cake of course." He winked, and Tris really didn't think he was talking about the cake. "It's mouthwatering." And with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared between the double doors of the dining room, leaving them swinging in his wake.

Tris found herself still staring at the spot Eric just vacated, and when she turned back around Tobias was glowering at her strangely. She forced her eyes back to her plate.

_What the hell was wrong with all these people,_ Tris thought. It was going to be a long stay in Cleveland.


	2. Chapter 2

Having been used to sleeping in new and unfamiliar places due to all the traveling her parents did, Tris found it all the more frustrating when she couldn't make her eyes stay shut for anything. It was still her first night at the Matthews' residence, but that wasn't the reason for the sudden onset of insomnia. There was something about this place—something deeply unrestful and slightly dark—that wouldn't permit Tris the descent into oblivion she so craved. This was the reason she found herself attempting to sneak down the stairs that seemed deadest on waking everyone in the household.

For it to be such an elaborate and expensive looking house, the stairs in the parlor made the most God-awful squeaking noises she'd ever heard. With tentative movements and comical faces, Tris was slowing making progress when a man's voice scared her half out of her wits, her body lurching at least three inches into the air.

"What exactly are you doing? There's no mines hidden on the steps if that's what you think." The voice accused.

Stiffly, Tris smoothed down her sleepshirt, trying to act casual to cover up the fact he'd given her such a start, slightly embarrassed. In the back of her mind, she wished she wore more to sleep in than just a cotton t-shirt and white spandex-like shorts that looked more like underwear than anything else.

"Nothing." She said, a bit breathlessly, like she'd been caught actually doing something. Taking on a firmer voice and expression, Tris tried to shift the situation. "What are _you _doing?"

From the shadows adorning the sides of the room emerged Tobias, his cheek bones and eye sockets eerily darkened by the contrasting moonlight that filtered in through the huge window above the staircase. Tris suddenly had cold-bumps, but oddly the temperature seemed much the same.

"_I'm_," He said it just as pointedly as she'd said it a moment before, "Going about _my _own business in _my _own home." He crossed his arms over his defined chest, the white cotton of his shirt clinging to his skin. "You?"

Tris felt the need to roll her eyes, but didn't. "I'm trying not to wake anyone up. You know, like a nice person would do."

"No one would hear you anyway," He said, "The upstairs bedrooms are too far away."

Tris realized he was probably right, but she wasn't about to tell him so. Tobias walked farther into the light, causing his skin to appear paler than it did during the day.  
"Seriously," He said, "What are you doing up at two o'clock in the morning?"

"I couldn't sleep. That's all. Not like I was planning on killing you all in your sleep or anything."

Tris swore she saw him smile a little, but she couldn't be sure. It could have just as easily been the dance of a shadow.

"You wouldn't be able to anyway. You don't know where my bedroom is and I'd hear you coming, going by the way you walk."

"Hey!" Tris said, a slight high-pitched tone to her voice.

"And talk." Tobias added; Tris scowled.

Then the two of them were just standing there, doing and saying nothing, a bit awkwardly, her frozen on the third step and him right in front of her on the first one.

"Well," He said, "Are you just going to stand there like one of Medusa's victims or are you going to move?"

Tris didn't exactly like the edge to his voice, so she decided to do something about it.

Putting a hand to her hip, she stated simply, stubbornly, "No."

Tobias raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"Yes, I said no. I'm not going to move." She offered him a half-smile, pleased with his aggravated and surprised expression.

He leaned back on his heels, his eyes going up and down, examining her. "Well," He said decidedly, "I'll just have to move you."

Tris gaped, finding his response humorous. "What? You can't move me." There was laughter in her voice, signaling she thought he was either joking or that he couldn't physically do it. She was wrong on both counts.

Tobias gave her a look that clearly said he believed he would and could do it, putting her in mind of all the "bitch, please" expressions she'd seen on those funny cat mimes.

She was about to comment on it when he reached forward suddenly, grabbing her by both hips with large, firm hands and lifted her off the steps.

Tris screeched, protesting the unwanted moving of her body, kicking her legs, but they were too short to actually reach their intended destination. Apparently, she'd underestimated his strength and him in general.

Pointedly, Tobias raised her until she was at direct eye level with him, bringing her close enough to see the odd midnight blue coloring of his eyes. It was a haunting color.

"I can't?" He said, referring to her earlier claim that he couldn't move her. His voice sounded unemotional and, somehow at the same time, amused. Tris glared at him silently, trying to wriggle away from his forceful grasp.

Abruptly, he swung her around and set her on the floor in front of the staircase, her feet tingling at the sudden reconnection with the cold marble. She stood there, scowling petulantly as he cast her a look over his shoulder as he ascended the stairs.

She was still doing this when he called from the top of the balcony.

"Night, Tris." He was so obviously mocking, his voice pure evidence of it.

Tris huffed and whirled about in the opposite direction, the heat of anger rushing beneath her skin, knowing very well her cheeks were probably red from it. With a fury, she marched in no direction in particular, heading blindly toward the front door.

For the second time that day, Tris found herself fighting with that darn door. For at least two minutes, she yanked and pulled on the knob only to realize she hadn't flipped the latch. Tris quickly looked about to make sure no one had witnessed the kind of moment that gave blondes their stereotype, but found no Tobias' lingering in the shadows and no smiling Jeanines and no smirking Erics.

After _that _little episode, Tris was able to get the door open and was greeted to frosty night air, cascading in like a polar breeze. She breathed it in, feeling it cool of the flames of her anger. It was a dark night, the moon obscured by hefty ashen clouds and stars smothered by the black sky. Venturing out onto the porch, Tris was wary of the slithering shadows around the edges of the yard and lines of the trees.

She wasn't afraid of the dark, far from it actually, but it was a new location, and Tris had no idea what kind of creepers Cleveland had to offer. It was a big city, and even if the Matthews lived on the far outskirts, there was bound to be at least a few crazies about.

_Don't be silly, _a tiny voice in her head whispered, _you live with the crazies._

Tris shuddered involuntarily, the feel of tiny chilling needles pricking her arms and legs. She moved forward, trying to leave the sensation behind. The wind blew gusty breaths, spiraling the dull blonde strands of her hair forward as she stared into the darkness ahead of her, moving carefully down the stairs of the porch until her bare feet touched the first smooth stone of the path. They were black and shiny, and they blended right into the perpetual gloominess that was this house.

She wasn't really headed anywhere, or at least not in the pitch black of the night when a storm seemed to be tittering on the line of horizon. The wind smelt of rain and turbulence; Tris had always loved that scent. But something was off about it, there was a smell rolled into the mix that didn't belong: Cigarette smoke.

She looked about, trying to decipher where the offensive aroma wafted from. In the dark in either directions she saw no one, perhaps more bothering than actually seeing someone. Tris turned back about, facing the house again, prepared to go back before she was had a meet and greet with the Cleveland creep. But something on the roof caught her attention.

A minute, pin-prick sized glint of light hovered about in the darkness, seeming to be there on its own accord. But that was impossible. Tris crept closer.

The nicotine smell was stronger once she almost reached the house, realizing, and thinking herself stupid for not realizing sooner, that the tiny floating light was the glowing end of someone's cigarette.

"Tris." Someone drawled in greeting slowly, and somehow it still managed to catch her off guard.

Squinting, she attempted to see the face of whom had spoken to her, narrowing her eyes in the general upward direction of the voice. It wasn't Tobias, she had just talked to him, but it was male. Obviously not Jeanine, and as far as she knew no one else lived here, so Eric.

"Um, hey." She called back, still not entirely sure of the exact location. Her voice carried strangely through the night, the wind distorting its true sound until it no longer sounded like her.

There was a pause, a lingering silence, then he said, "Come up here."

Tris raised her eyebrows, certain she was not going to, intending to decline but found herself saying instead, "How?"

"There's a trellis." Tris saw it.

He must have anticipated her apprehension because he added, "It's not hard."

Tris shifted her weight from one foot to another, eyeing the trellis suspiciously. After a few moments, Eric tacked on:

"I promise." He sounded a bit wry, and if there were an exact word for it, mischievous.

"Why the hell not?" Tris muttered to herself, wrapping her fists around each side of the trellis, hoisting herself up. It was a slow and, if she were to be truthful, painful process. And not at all as easy as Eric made it out to be.

By the time she had one arm thrown over the side of the roof, her breath was gone and her throat was burning. Eric didn't help her finish clambering up, only watched her over the embers of the cigarette protruding from in-between his lips, the light of it casting flickering images back across his face.

"Thanks for the help." Tris rasped, finally having her full body on the roof.

"You're welcome." His words were slightly affected by the cigarette, and Tris scowled, sitting down beside him, making sure the proper distance was between them.

He cast an indifferent sidelong glance at her before shifting his gaze back out into the nowhere, taking the cigarette from his mouth and balancing it between his fingers. Tris shifted her positon a bit, wondering why he invited her up here if he wasn't going to talk to her. Unconsciously, her line of sight followed his, staring into the blackness of the night.

Breaking the silence, Eric hummed a bit in the back of his throat before he said, "So tell me about you, Tris." Her eyes flicked to his.

"What do you want to know?" He still hadn't looked at her, seeming to be locked in a staring contest with the night.

"I want to know," He paused before continuing, "What you're like when there's no one around to see."

Tris assumed she probably looked a bit bemused, "What do you mean?"

Eric tossed his cigarette away, off the roof, his eyes finally meeting hers, twinkling in the dark. "I mean, who are you really?" Tris put her legs out before her, leaning back on her hands.

"I—"She still didn't fully understand what he wanted her to say, but he continued anyway.

"Are you kind?" He inquired, inching closer. "Are you honest? Smart? Selfless?" His gaze burnt into hers, his mouth turning up at the corner. He was so close, she could smell the smoke from his breath.

He scanned her face, scrutinizing every inch. "Or are you brave?" Something about the way he said it made Tris want to shy away, like he could see far beneath her skin and into…something else. He continued to lean forward, closer and closer as Tris leaned backwards, backwards until her elbows scratched the surface of the roof. His arm was placed on the other side of her head, trapping her in.

He lingered over her for a moment, smirking before closing the space between them. His lips were soft and rough, and very foreign. Tris had only kissed two people in her entire life: her ex-boyfriend Al, and now Eric. Al didn't kiss like Eric.

A little thrill skipped through her body, urging her lips to move in response. Somehow, she didn't mind the taste of mint and smoke. It felt strange, strange to be kissing him, but in a very pleasant way.

His tongue brushed her lower lip, and Tris jumped. Finding her inexperience amusing, Eric let out a low, almost guttural chuckle, his fingers grasping the side of her jaw. To Tris it wasn't funny, it was a reality check.

Batting his hands away, she sat straight up, pressing against his body. Eric leaned his head back, looking at her at an angle, his eyes slicing through the dark.

"I…I have to go." She stammered, her face hot with heat. He looked back at her for a moment more silently, but then stood straight up, taking her with him.

"Sure." He said, walking toward two windows of which she imagined he first came out from. With curt movements, Eric pushed them inward, a creak reaching her ears. He motioned for her to go through them.

Quickly, Tris slipped through the windows, her feet landing softly on thick, dark carpet. It was Eric's bedroom. He slid in behind her, reaching back and shutting the windows with a click.

Hurriedly, without really looking at anything in the room, Tris went to the door, planning to just disappear into the hallway and dart to her own room, but his voice stopped her.

"Night, Tris." He sounded almost exactly like Tobias when he'd said just those words earlier, and she wondered, a bit angrily, if he were mocking her too. She inclined her head toward him, chancing a glance at his face. It was oddly, shockingly, blank. Unemotional. Cold. It didn't make any sense.

Nothing about this place did.

**(Implied Line-Break)**

**A/N: Sorry for the mistakes in this chapter and the first one. I don't re-edit and have no official beta. **

**I just want to say the reviews are seriously appreciated. I love every one of them, and without them I wouldn't and probably won't update. **

**Tell me what you like, think, and want to see. **

**~With love, **

**R.T.B **


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